I love numbers. Numbers tell me things.
In this case, they tell me that eighty-two people have downloaded a copy of Kathy’s World. This is somewhat confusing, because I’m pretty sure that not even eighty people have ever seen this blog, and it’s not like I’m talking about it elsewhere. So I remain baffled. I expected a couple of downloads – ten or twenty at the most, based on the stats I get from WordPress.
On one hand, I’m pretty pleased that eighty-two people thought enough of the cover, the blurb, or my inane rambling to go grab a copy. This means that there are eighty-two copies of Kathy’s World out there on various Kindles, hopefully amusing people or giving them some sexytimes boosting fun. I like this idea, I really do.
On the other hand, part of my neurotic writer persona is screaming WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE AND WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?! and twitching in the corner, whimpering under the weight of attention. It’s frightening, you see, even though the more sensible part of me keeps pointing at the aforementioned happy feeling, patting the writer persona soothingly on the shoulder and saying ‘there, there, it’s alright.’
Yes, the different aspects of my personality talk to each other. That’s not important right now.
See, I think writers can have – nay, must have – this weird split in their minds between the introvert and the extrovert. We have to have some kind of confidence in our work, while simultaneously believing that it’s utter garbage and in dire need of improvement. The extrovert forces us to publish. The introvert forces us to write better.
In my case, I think the extrovert is the one who pushed me into writing about sex in the first place, and the introvert is the one who keeps sending me to Google looking for information such as “best places to have sex on campus”. (My search history is HILARIOUS.)
Now, excuse me while I go sacrifice a small furry animal to the gods of Amazon in the hope that I’ll get some reviews out of this.